THURSDAY: Hunting

BY DIANNE KORCHYNSKI

Copyright is held by the author.

What makes a cat
stand stalk still
in the gathering rain
but stalking
an invisible something?
as I stalk those musical/ notes
lodged in my/ brain’s ear
(and something else, something larger, darker, lurks)
equally invisible.
I too am relaxed
and ready to
pounce.

But only for a while.
Then I lose patience.
But even as I dog  the
answer – not solution —
I fear there is none,
the answer to what
happened in the tent that night
that you are
so silent about – as silent [and dangerous]
as the black calico
gliding along the trellis

The rain patters lightly, stops
a small grey tiger
emerges from the depths of the
raspberry canes.
Have we all found
what we were looking for?

I have the song,
but the hound has failed me
has come back
hoarse and exhausted
nothing but spittle
hanging from its mouth.

One comment

  1. Nadean Rutledge

    Always enjoy Dianna’s poetry. Her continual quest for music and the answers to life.

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